Tobacco

Tobacco (pronounced tuh-bak-oh)

(1) Any of several plants belonging to the genus Nicotiana (of the nightshade family), especially one of those species, as N. tabacum, whose leaves are prepared for smoking or chewing or as snuff.

(2) Any of numerous solanaceous plants of the genus Nicotiana, having mildly narcotic properties, tapering hairy leaves, and tubular or funnel-shaped fragrant flowers. The species N. tabacum is cultivated as the chief source of commercial tobacco

(3) Any of various similar plants of other genera.

(4) The leaves of certain of these plants, dried and prepared, as used in cigarettes, cigars & pipes, as snuff and for chewing.

(5) Any product or products made from such leaves.

(6) To indulge in tobacco; to smoke.

(7) To treat with tobacco.

(8) A range of colors in the brown spectrum, tending to the darker.

1525–1535 (attested since 1588): From the Spanish tabaco of uncertain origin.  It was either from the Arabic طُبَّاق‎ (ṭubbāq) (Dittrichia viscosa) or from one or more Caribbean languages (including Galibi Carib, Arawak or Taíno) from a word meaning “roll of tobacco leaves” or “pipe for smoking tobacco” (there are contemporary reports citing both and scholars tend now to prefer the former), the best known of which was tabago (tube for inhaling smoke or powdered intoxicating plants).  Taino is thought by linguistic anthropologists to be the most likely source.  That the name of the inhaling implement was applied to the leaves was explained by the Spanish assuming it was the name of the plant.  The West Indian (Caribbean) island of Tobago was said to have been named in 1498 by Christopher Columbus (1451–1506) after the tambaku (pipe), a reference to the native custom of smoking dried tobacco leaves.  Derived forms include smokeless tobacco, tobaccoless & anti-tobacco and there are a wealth of slang terms for tobacco and its products (including the tax-evading illicit varieties) including occabot (the backward spelling), baccy, backy, chop chop, durrie, smoke, fag, gasper, ciggy, coffin nail, cancer stick, darb, dart, death stick, bine & stogie.  The spelling tabacco is obsolete.  Tobacco is a noun & verb, tobaccoing & tobaccoed are verbs; the noun plural is tobaccos or tobaccoes.

One attempt at social engineering began in earnest in the 1980s: Pressure was applied on film & television studios, advertisers and publishers to stop depicting smoking as "attractive, sexy and cool".  Because cigarette smoke is known to be carcinogenic and sustained use typically reduced the human lifespan by about a decade, it was an admirable part of the public health programme but the difficult thing was that images of smoking undeniably could be sexy.  Lindsay Lohan demonstrates.   

A supine Lindsay Lohan, smoking in The Canyons (2013).

The unusual construct of the noun tobacconist (one who deals in tobacco) was tobacco + -n- + -ist.  The abnormal inserted consonant appeared to reflect the way the word actually was pronounced.  The sense of the commercial trader in the product dates from the 1650s although the earlier meaning, dating from the 1590s was “someone addicted to tobacco and by 1873 the word nicotinism (morbid effects of excessive use of tobacco) had been coined so the awareness of the adverse effects of tobacco are not new.  The first “tobacconist” (a shop where tobacco and related products are purchased) seems to have operated in Florida in the early 1800s.  The -ist suffix was from the Middle English -ist & -iste, from the Old French -iste and the Latin -ista, from the Ancient Greek -ιστής (-istḗs), from -ίζω (-ízō) (the -ize & -ise verbal suffix) and -τής (-tḗs) (the agent-noun suffix).  It was added to nouns to denote various senses of association such as (1) a person who studies or practices a particular discipline, (2), one who uses a device of some kind, (3) one who engages in a particular type of activity, (4) one who suffers from a specific condition or syndrome, (5) one who subscribes to a particular theological doctrine or religious denomination, (6) one who has a certain ideology or set of beliefs, (7) one who owns or manages something and (8), a person who holds very particular views (often applied to those thought most offensive).

Art deco: Snuffbox (left) and cigarette case (right).

Snuff (powdered tobacco to be inhaled) was first available in the1680s and was from the Dutch or Flemish snuf, a shortening of snuftabak (snuff tobacco), from snuffen (to sniff, snuff).  The practice of taking (sniffing) snuff quickly became fashionable in England and generated an industry in the making of “snuff boxes”; many small and exquisite, they’ve long been collectable.  The slang phrase “up to snuff” (knowing, sharp, wide-awake, not likely to be deceived) dates from 1811, the order of the words thought a reference to the upper-class association with the substance while the meaning is presumed to allude to the "elevating" properties of snuff.  The noun nicotine (which still appears occasionally in scientific papers as nicotin) describes the poisonous ,volatile alkaloid base found in tobacco leaves and was first documented in English in 1819, from the French nicotine, from the earlier nicotiane, from the Modern Latin Nicotiana, the formal botanical name for the tobacco plant, named for Jean Nicot (circa 1530-1600), the French ambassador to Portugal who in 1561 sent tobacco seeds and powdered leaves from his embassy in Lisbon to Paris.

Until the mid-twentieth century, there was much variation in packaging but in the post-war years things were (more or less) standardized in terms of size and shape.  It was a relatively small area with with to work and the convention which developed was to use the simple corporate symbol and product name, thus Marlboro's famous red-on-white chevron.  As the product range proliferated (women were a target market thought to have great potential), Philip Morris adopted the technique of semiotics to differentiate while retaining the same identifiable shape, the basic difference being in the color: red for the standard cigarette, blue for mild, green for menthol, gold for longer (ie 4 inch or 100 mm sticks) and black for higher-priced special offerings.  That didn't last and while some manufacturers stuck to the red / blue / green model, Marlboro's colors increasingly became random.       

James VI and I (1566–1625) King of Scotland as James VI (1567-1625) & King of England and Ireland as James I (1603-1625) was appalled by tobacco an in 1604 wrote the treatise A Counterblaste to Tobacco in which he left none in any doubt about how he felt and it’s a document which sounds very contemporary in its condemnation even if some of what was then medical orthodoxy is dated.  The king blamed the scourge of tobacco on Native Americans (although it was European adventurers which brought it from the new world) and is especially scathing about what is now called passive smoking, responding by imposing heavy taxes but such were the adverse consequences for the American colonies that in 1624 a royal charter was instead granted and the whole crop became a royal monopoly.  Written originally in Early Modern English (here transliterated) it still reads well:

Have you not reason to be ashamed, and to forsake this filthy novelty, so basely grounded, so foolishly received and so grossly mistaken as something good to use?  In your abuse you are sinning against God, harming both your health and your wallet, making yourselves look absurd by this custom, scorned and contemned by the civilized people of any nation.  It is a habit loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black stinking fumes are like the horrible Stygian smoke of the bottomless pit of Hell.

The king’s mention of Stigian is a reference to the goddess Styx (Στύξ) (stýks (literally “Shuddering”)) who in Greek mythology took the form of a river of Elia, Arcadia which surrounded Hades nine times and flowed from a rock into silver-pillared caves.  What the king probably had in mind was the tale that Stygian waters imposed senselessness for a year and a draft of the waters was decreed by Zeus for gods who had perjured themselves.  More positively though it was said of Zeus he also insisted the oaths of the gods be sworn by the water of the Styx.

Mid-century cigarette advertising.  Even in the 1950s the public's suspicion that tobacco was a dangerous product was rising and the industry's advertising switched from the traditional "lifestyle" model to one which relied on endorsements by celebrities and scientists and much quoting of research and statistics, much of which would later be wholly debunked.  The tactics and techniques similar to those later adopted by the fossil fuel lobby in their long campaign to discredit the science of human-activity induced climate change. 

Although there were always the fastidious types like James I who found it abhorrent, it wasn’t until late in the twentieth century that in the West governments began to crack down on the industry to the point where in many jurisdictions the stated aim is to eliminate it completely, the most recent innovation being progressively to raise the minimum age at which tobacco products can be purchased which, in theory, means that within decades, nobody will be able to buy them.  Having effected that policy, the heath advocates much have thought there was light at the end of the tunnel, only for vaping to become a thing.  Governments were however always interested in tobacco as a form of revenue and taxing an addictive, lawful product provided for centuries a constant and often gradually increasing source of income and cynics like to note the attitudes seemed only to shift when advances in surgical techniques and drug treatments meant those suffering the consequences of a lifetime of tobacco use began to be kept alive for decades, often at public expense.  Previously, the afflicted had had the decency quickly to drop dead, usually at an age when their usefulness as economic units had either vanished or significantly diminished to the point where, as pensioners, they were a cost to society.  The BBC’s comedy Yes, Prime Minister explored the math & morals in a discussion between the prime-minister and the permanent head of the cabinet office.

Sir Humphrey Appleby: Notwithstanding the fact that your proposal could conceivably encompass certain concomitant benefits of a marginal and peripheral relevance, there is a countervailing consideration of infinitely superior magnitude involving your personal complicity and corroborative malfeasance, with a consequence that the taint and stigma of your former associations and diversions could irredeemably and irretrievably invalidate your position and culminate in public revelations and recriminations of a profoundly embarrassing and ultimately indefensible character.

Prime-minister: Perhaps I might have a précis of that?  It says here, smoking related diseases cost the National Health Service £165 million a year.

Sir Humphrey Appleby: Yes but we've been in to that, it has been shown that if those extra 100,000 people had lived to a ripe old age, it would have cost us even more in pensions and social security than it did in medical treatment.  So, financially speaking it's unquestionably better that they continue to die at their present rate.

Prime-minister: We're talking of 100,000 deaths a year.

Sir Humphrey Appleby: Yes, but cigarette taxes pay for a third of the cost of the National Health Service.  We're saving many more lives than we otherwise could, because of those smokers who voluntary lay down their lives for their friends. Smokers are national benefactors.

Prime-minister: So long as they live.

Sir Humphrey Appleby: A lot of people, eminent people, influential people have argued that such legislation would be a blow against freedom of choice.

Prime-minister: Rubbish. I'm not banning smoking itself. Does every tax rise represent a blow against freedom?

Sir Humphrey Appleby: Well, depends how big the tax rise is.

Prime-minister: Oh, that's fascinating. Does 20p represent a blow against freedom?  25p? 30p? 31? Is something a blow against freedom simply because it can seriously damage your wealth?

Sir Humphrey Appleby: I foresee all sorts of unforeseen problems.

Prime-minister: Such as?

Sir Humphrey Appleby: If I could foresee them, they wouldn't be unforeseen.

The Kennedy connection

The 1941 film Tobacco Road was based on the 1932 novel of the same name by Erskine Caldwell (1903-1987).  It involved a family living in poverty in the rural backwoods of the US and their antics did not suggest the possession even of average intelligence.  The term “tobacco road” came to be used as a slur against such folk and their lifestyle and while it’s usually an amusing disparagement exchanged between the rich and well-connected, even among them context can matter as Thomas Maier (b 1956) illustrated in one episode recounted in When Lions Roar: The Churchills and the Kennedys (2014) involving John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) and Pamela Harriman (1920–1997), later one of Western society’s last great courtesans but then just divorced from what had been a brief and understandably unhappy marriage to the even then dissolute Randolph Churchill (1911-1968), son of Winston (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955).  Crooked old Joseph Kennedy (1888–1969) fashioned his sons to become politically powerful establishment figures but didn’t forget his great-grandfather had in 1848 left the poverty of rural Ireland during the potato famine to begin to build wealth and influence in Boston.  He’s made sure his sons knew the family history and when in Ireland in 1945, JFK’s curiosity had prompted a trip to the old Kennedy homestead:

At the Kennedy farm in County Wexford, accompanied by Pamela, Jack discovered not much had changed since his great-grandfather left. “I’m John Kennedy from Massachusetts,” he said after his knock on the door was answered. “I believe we are related.” His distant cousin Mary Kennedy Ryan seemed dubious at first but eventually invited the two strangers in for tea.

The Kennedys who remained in Ireland had spent much of the past century trying to regain the land rights to their tenant farms from the British and supporting Ireland’s independence movement led by such politicians as de Valera. Mary Ryan herself had been a member of the old IRA’s women’s auxiliary during the 1920s conflict against the British, carrying guns and money, either in carts or under her dress, to a secret hiding spot near their farm. “Jack kept pressing on about his ancestors going to America and so on, trying to make the link,” recalled Pamela. As a treat, Jack took the Irish Kennedy cousins for a short ride in Kick’s shining new station wagon, accompanied by the former Mrs. Randolph Churchill. “They never could figure out who I was,” recalled Pamela. “‘Wife?’ they’d ask. I’d say no. And they’d say, ‘Ah, soon to be, no doubt!’”

After nearly two hours “surrounded by chickens and pigs,” Jack recalled, he “left in a flow of nostalgia and sentiment.” The trip reaffirmed the Irish stories he’d heard from his parents and grandparents. Neither Pamela nor Kick, however, seemed impressed. As their car pulled away from the Kennedy farm, Pamela turned to Jack with a remark meant as witty. “That was just like Tobacco Road!” she tittered, referring to the popular novel about rural life in Georgia. Jack wasn’t amused. “The English lady,” he later recounted, ” …had not understood at all the magic of the afternoon.” To Dave Powers and Ken O’Donnell, his Irish-Catholic political aides from Boston, he was much blunter: “I felt like kicking her out of the car.” At Lismore, Lady Hartington was even haughtier. After listening to her brother’s wondrous account of the Kennedy homestead, Kick mustered only a bemused question. “Well, did they have a bathroom?”